A Dragon and his Vamprincess
by FanfictionRush
Summary: What happens when Ozpin finally talks Jaune into proving his worth in Beacon? Who does he meet in Tamriel that changes his life? What happens to bring him from a hearty Nord to a depressed drunk? And this Vamprincess? What does he do when he finds her? Who lives and who dies in his life? Post Canon v2!RWBY, Changed!Canon Skyrim. (DISCONTINUED, PM for details)
1. Jauney Loggy

_**Season 1: Dragonborn | Arc 1: Thrown into Chaos**_

Hey guys! I know a lot of you wanted a second chapter to JPTR (Jupiter), but genderbend Renora is hard to write, so that'll come later!

I got an idea after playing Skyrim for five minutes.

Jaune as Dragonborn, but in Skyrim.

Awesome, right? Nope? Don't care. Writing it anyways.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own RWBY, that belongs to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth, extensively. I do not own Skyrim, that belongs to Bethesda. I do, however, own any and all OCs, as well as twisted plot/Canon.

Now, for the love of God, let this Fanfiction begin!

 **-= *Jauney Loggy* =-**

"Hey, Serana!" I called to the Vamprincess. "Where'd you put the camcorder?"

"It's in the back!" she called back from the little metal room of this damned ship. I swear, if I ever get space sickness like my air sickness, I will go insane and perform Seppuku. I have a sword, and it's ready to plunge into the depths of my stomach in revenge of any floating green stomach shit I may allow up by accident. Serana...really didn't need to know what Seppuku was, let alone what my sickness is...as it was completely rendered useless on Tamriel. Now, back on track!

About three years ago, Ozpin called me up to his office, stating he needed to talk to me. This is how that went:

* * *

"Yes, sir?" asked Jaune as he approached the Headmaster.

"I have a reason to be curious about these transcripts of yours, young man. Do you know of them?" he said as he threw them onto the glass table. Jaune stared at them with fear, that was, until Ozpin spoke up again. "You seem to have improved fairly at this school, albeit you still have attributes to accurately perform in order to be a true student here," he finished by throwing a long list of _attributes_ he'd have to have one day.

Needless to say, he was not amused.

"Yes, sir..." sighed Jaune as he slumped in a seat behind him in defeat.

"No, don't worry," assured Ozpin. "I'm not going to expel you."

"Really?" asked Jaune with newfound confidence.

"Yes, think of it as..." he trailed off, waving his left hand around in twirls to think as he took a sip of his coffee in his right. "A three year suspension."

"What?!" he yelled. "How am I supposed to lead my team?!"

"A cousin, perhaps?" hinted Ozpin, throwing another file. It was his cousin, John d'Arc, with his little cousin Joan with her hands all over his back. He was giving her a piggy back ride in downtown Vale.

"I'll contact him."

"Already did," said Ozpin. Jaune's eyes widened in surprise. "Now, your mission, should you chose to accept it, will prove to me that you are worthy of this school as well as useful to your friends. Then, and only then, will you have the ability to become a true Huntsman."

"Yes!" yelled Jaune eagerly. "On one condition, however."

"Shoot," Ozpin indicated him to give him, in full detail, what his condition was.

He sighed for half a second before looking at Ozpin with fierce eyes. "If I get back to my friend, and I know John won't do anything to anyone while I'm gone," he said firmly. "Don't forget visits!" he added quickly.

"Granted," Ozpin said, and he sighed once more in relief. "Though, your first experience is going to be a bit...jarring."

"Excuse me?"

"Let's just say, you may experience another... _launch_..."

"Oh..." was all Jaune could say.

"Agent Texas," said Ozpin. "Put him out."

"Understood," came a female voice from what seemed like a radio.

All of a sudden, slowly a figure appeared from nowhere. In a black armored suit, with the only difference - that Jaune could see - was a bronze mask. The seeming female walked up to him.

"What?" asked Jaune.

"Advanced Technologies Industry," she piped. "Unfortunately, you're only a guinea pig, so you won't know much."

"I understand that much..." he muttered, though she could hear him all too well.

"Omega," she said as a purple being appeared next to her, only tiny and near her head. "Put him out."

"Understood," came to the raspy voice, and Jaune was out like a brick.

* * *

 _ **Log 1: Recap of my Beginning**_

"Well," I said as the feed finally came onto the camcorder. "I'm going to be recording a bit for a special log, as this is the first.

"What you saw back there," I continued. "Was the account of my being here, and as you can see," I gestured to a black screen behind me. "It cuts off as I get knocked out by the crazy black-suited girl.

"Now, as you can see," I repeated in a choice of words I seemed to have liked a lot without realizing it. "I agreed to prove my worth of Beacon with Ozpin, therefore, here I am, three years later, and still not back. Why, you ask? Because that was my Beacon, in a way.

"A lot of you may have insinuated the fact that Pyrrha and I liked each other, which we did, but it dissipated soon after I left, leaving it in my cousin's footsteps for me. And now he's with my previous partner, Pyrrha Nikos," I said, feigning joy. "And I'm never letting him take credit for being both with her as a boyfriend and as a partner," I soon muttered afterwards. "But, I digress.

"Well, Ozpin got me thrown on some black horror in the middle of space called the _Mother of Invention_ , and the only thing I noticed my entire three weeks there were scientists, and more of those bronze-masked lunatics," I said with a roll of my eyes, as they weren't really lunatics, but following orders from one. "Every once and a while, the occasional Juniper visit would take place, and luckily the J was still there, as it would sound weird any other way possible. I swear, the choices Ozpin makes a damn-near perfect!

"Anyways, the day we were ordered to say goodbye for the last time, I was launched into space and I blacked out, not even knowing where I was going. And, apparently, four centuries crossed before I awoke. And on Remnant, that was one and a half years! I would have to spend that same amount of time just to pass Beacon, but not only academically, but also Hunterally.

"Motivationally speaking, this was all just to I can show off to Pyrrha later," I said as the Vamprincess joined me from behind, throwing her embrace around me. I shuffled my hand over hers and simply said, "But, now I can show off to my cousin!" I yelled before leaning in for a kiss from behind.

I reached for the keyboard - slapping the desk in the process - as I turned fully into Serana and slammed my hands on the keyboard. Just as the video ends, you can see me jumping onto Serana.

The video sizzled off.

* * *

Seppuku, an ancient Dragonborn tradition where he or she would stand at the exact summit, further up from whence Parthurnaax currently resided.

Joan d'Arc, the current Dragonborn, was to perform this, as she had grown weary over the past twenty years.

"I..." Parthurnaax started. "Believe...I know your plight, in a way, quir viin."

"Thank you, Parthurnaax," said Joan heartily as her blonde braid flew into her sky blue eyes. She brushed away the offending braid to just behind her, lightly tapping away at her Dragonbone armor to which she donned. The wind was a little crazy up there sometimes, but that was all she could do.

"No," Parthurnaax refused. "Thank _you_. You saved the world, Dovahkiin. What kiranin, can I possibly do?"

She smiled again at him before nodding. She turned on her heel and began the short climb to the top of the mountain.

Seppuku, the ancient Dragonborn tradition, where Talos himself would strike down the Dragonborn and take them into Sovngarde. Then, he would create a new hero of stone, and upon the cracking, he or she would arise to save Tamriel from whatever dragon who chose to destroy it.

She made it to the summit and waited for the moon to rise and shine down to her from above. When that part was completed, clouds swirled above her, soon dowsing the entire mountain in its eerie black smoke. The tip was completely open, giving her a view of the stars past. The storms electrified, and like that, nine bolts of lightning evenly sprawled to the middle, creating something that she'd never seen before. She looked down to Parthurnaax and all seemed still for a moment. "Goodbye," she said with streamy eyes. "Parthurnaax."

"Goodbye," was all he said as the center of the anomaly decided that was her passing words, and shone down onto her.

In the blinding light, Parthurnaax could not see, but feel, her death. The stone beneath her shattered, the clouds dissipated, and there was the stone. In all its glory, Parthurnaax could not hope to see it. He wept for her, as she was the only companion other than the Graybeards that both accompanied and listened to him.

He could not tell if it was the never ending barrier of white whispy fog, or the red still branding his eyes that was obscuring his view!

For four centuries...FOUR!...all he was able to do as he waited, was fly around, check around the lands for any news to bring to the hobbit-like Graybeards. But he found nothing of interest, still entertaining them when they asked. _Seriously?_ he thought. _They're humans, why don't they just walk down?!_ So, in his frustration of this, he sent them down once in a while to stir trouble. He sent one to influence King Ulfric Stormcloak to go against the Empire in order to free Skyrim. Due to the Empire, Parthurnaax was secluded to the mountain, and therefore could not, for the love of his life, be able to show himself!

On this particular day, however, he found himself in a sour mood. Odahviin recently found Alduin, and was curious too much to stop.

He was seething in anger as he landed on the Dragon Wall he'd been so kind to say he'd protect, but only to bludgeon it in anger. But now, it didn't matter if it was protected or not, since the bloody Dragonborn still stood up there in all their-

 _Crrrrack!_

Parthurnaax turned to the offending sound, right at the...summit.

"By Akatosh!" he bellowed as the fog lifted. In the setting sun, he could finally, after four hundred years, see what it was that he was told to wait on!

Donning a shield, two arcs were crested upon it, one over the other. His sword, untarnished by stone, gleamed in the orange sunlight as dusk fell upon Skyrim and its Throat of the World. Now cheery, he Shouted in happiness. In concern, the four Graybeards asked his meaning in his mirthy shouts. He replied the Dragonborn was coming. He could see it in their eyes, happiness seemed to dredge up the smoothest of their wrinkle lines!

Parthurnaax was a happy dragon, dancing upon the crisp wind - still warm from little daylight - and Shouting heartily into the sky. He was so cheery, he almost ripped a wing off a jagged edge of the mountain in his carelessness.

He swooped down from another crack, and a few bits of rock fell down. He could now see the chestplate donned on him, the silver, trimmed by yellow, only covered the top half of his torso. _That'll have to change,_ thought Parthurnaax jokingly.

 _Ah, how nice it is to be among the youth again!_ yelled Parthurnaax in his mind. He had not been this happy in over a hundred years!

He called in the Graybeards with supplies for the Dragonborn's return. Arngeir got the tomes and books needed for him to learn, while the others got the map and tacks, bow and arrow, and the other carried the ancient knowledge for the more powerful Words of Power.

Finally, with an almighty crack, the mountain shook, and the ground bellowed. Parthurnaax checked if everything was ready and set his eye upon him once more, realizing there was a problem.

A four century running stance was standing in place, ready to take off as soon as the last of the stone fell-

 _Crrrrrrack!_

The stone churned, and finally left his face. With control of his body, the blonde, blue eyed Dragonborn could not help but pay heed to the need to run, and ran right off the edge.

"NOOOOOO!" he yelled. "NOT AGAAAAAAAI-"

"Oh, dear," Arngeir said.

"I'll go receive our Savior From Stone," said Parthurnaax jokingly. He let out a chuckle before springing up. His wings waved downwards, pulsing snow and dust around, and took off quickly.

Upon noticing, however, that he'd have to be quick to catch the savior, he swatted down strongly, and gave out a cry.

The Dragonborn tumbled and tumbled about in the sky, all the while screaming in his native Human language. Sometimes, Parthurnaax did not understand it when it was blatantly thrown into the wind, but he could make out bits and pieces as, _Not again, why me, and-wait,_ he thought. _Again? Did he have some sort of bout unbeknownst to us prior to his coming._

* * *

Jaune tumbled about, screaming out at the top of his lungs. But noticing the shield, unusually with a sword embedded into the end, he drew it to his chest before curling into a ball. He crashed into the tall woods below, and a white light overcame all within the immediate area.

* * *

Parthurnaax shielded his eyes from the strange, but blinding blast of light that invaded his vision. He tumbled, faliled, and finally slammed onto his back onto the ground. He both failed and refused to scream due to the bystanders around. He needed to keep his identity hidden, but for now, he needed to check on the Dragonborn.

Parthurnaax struggled, but finally rolled over to look up at the confused blonde. He saw the unusual white fog lining his body. The boy was looking at his hands in all confusion, that is, until he saw Parthurnaax.

* * *

A scream was heard in the distance.

"Some girl is in trouble!" yelled Ralof.

"I'm pretty sure that isn't a girl," said Ulfric.

 **-= *End of Chapter 1* =-**

Sorry for that, but I couldn't help but want to get this idea out. It felt so good writing this! Sorry, Jaune, but I have to pull the scream girl joke on ya!

Anyone like it? It was a weird beginning to do, but that's just me.

Now, for the love of God, let the next Fanfiction begin!


	2. Memory

_**Season 1: Dragonborn | Arc 1: Thrown into Chaos**_

Hey, guys! Sorry it took so long! I've been a little busy (playing Skyrim and getting useless mods: Sofia).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own RWBY, that belongs to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth, extensively. I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, that belongs to Bethesda and any other company affiliated in the making. I do, however, own any and all OCs as well as twisted Plot/Canon.

 **A/N:** I have made some changes from the actual dialogue because I am too lazy to copy exactly what people say. Besides, that's boring. Haven't you already played through that hell once (or multiple times, like me)? I'm making changes, deal with it. As for last chapter, sorry for the off-chronology there. I was trying to go from future to past, to future to past, and finally, present. You'll get what I mean. He was on the _Mother of Invention_ when he was recording and when he called for the camcorder from Serana. Keep that in mind.

Now, for the love of God, let this Fanfiction begin!

 **-= *Memory* =-**

Jaune couldn't remember a damn thing as far as he could tell. What he believed used to be his memories - or where he dreamt of his memories - was a black space occupying the disappearance. Amnesia. He really wished he could remember something. He really wanted to have some company. Though now, he seemed content with it as he curled into a ball in the empty space. He could get used to it, as long as no one disturbed him.

Oh, and the blurry vision.

He was regaining consciousness, and he seemed not to like it. _I have to go to- ... - again._ He couldn't make out that one word. Maybe he was too fuzzy to remember, or something was _holding_ the memory back. He would get to the bottom of this!

He finally awoke groggily to the smell of the natural outdoor life. The grass, trees. Oblivion, he could actually smell _stone._ He didn't mind, though, as he was wondering what in Oblivion he was doing in a freaking cart binded like a thief!

He hadn't the faintest memory of the reason why he believed he screamed so loud.

"Ugh," Jaune groaned. The man in front of him, binded just as he, looked to him.

"Ah, are you awake?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Jaune asked rather brashly, though the grogginess was apparent.

"Sorry," he said. "You've been unconscious for an hour or so."

"Really?" he asked less groggily, as he was more awake now. "Where am I?" he looked around at the snowy landscape. Dead trees - from what he could see from the leafless branches - littered the area lightly above a thick layer of snow. Albeit the thick layer, he could see the stones in the road sticking out visibly.

"We're just outside of Helgen," replied the blonde man. "Skyrim," he emphasized.

"What's that?" Jaune asked as he brought his binded hands up to rub his eyes.

"Is this some sort of joke?" asked the man, though not angrily.

"No," he said. "I don't know why, but I can't remember anything..."

"Other than your Nordic tongue, luckily."

"What?" he said. "What's Nordic tongue."

"Language, silly boy," replied the man mirthfully.

"I thought we were speaking English," Jaune said.

"I have no idea what that is, but at least you're alive. But, unfortunately, you're in custody with the Empire."

"What?" Jaune asked.

Ignoring him, the man on the blonde's left - a skinny thing - said, "If it weren't for you _Stormcloaks_ ," he said with contempt. "I would have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, horse thief," he dubbed him.

"What's up with him?" he asked as he nodded towards the man on Jaune's right.

"Watch your tongue!" the blonde snapped. "That's Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

"Wait..." the horse thief went. "Jarl Ulfric? You're the leader of the rebellion?" That hit Jaune hard. He hoped he wasn't considered a part of this rebellion. "Oh, gods, where are they taking us?!"

"I don't know," the blonde said. "But Sovngarde awaits."

Something told Jaune that he didn't want to go there.

"Where are you from, horse thief?" asked the blonde.

"Why do you care?" the horse thief quipped back.

"When a Nord is coming closer to his death, he should be thinking of home."

"Rorikstead," the horse thief said with nostalgia. "I'm from Rorikstead."

"Shut up back there!" the driver snapped.

Jaune finally looked forward to see the man, only to see a cobblestone gate and a wooden roof covering it. Behind said gate - and walls surrounding so - was a large town with towers dotting the middle of it. The wooden houses wrapped around the inside of the wall, the markets and inns around the middle, giving a nice winding path through town. Jaune decided this might be a nice place to settle down had he not been taken through there in custody.

"This is Helgen," the blonde said to no one particularly. "I used to be sweet on a girl here...I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper Berries mixed in."

The word 'Juniper' made Jaune want to cry, but he held back.

"Wait, Helgen?!" the horse thief cried. "Akatosh, Julianos, Stendarr, Mara, Zenithar! Have mercy!"

As they went through the gate, a man in what seemed like a general's armor was on a horse, facing what looked like an elf wearing some pretty decent armor the color of bronze on his own horse, and the two seemed to be conversing. Imperials and other elf-like people wearing similar armor were surrounding and protecting the two men and giving the people in the carts dirty looks, especially Jaune.

"Look at that," the blonde changed demeanors from nostalgia to anger. "General Tullius and the Thalmor. They probably put him up to this, the cowards!"

Jaune needed to keep a journal or something, lest he forget all these words.

Blonde went back to the nostalgia now as they were careened through the city. "Funny..." he said. "Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe."

"They make me want to puke..." Jaune muttered. "And I've never seen this place before...or anything like it."

Blonde heard all too well. "Haha, you're right. Same here."

There was another little gate entrance, but they did not go through it. Instead, they parked the carriages to the side and called them down.

"Get them off the carts!" a stern female voice called from below.

Two carts, one captain, two list-readers was all Jaune wanted to say. But, now he could see the rags that held these 'Stormcloaks' in their name.

Chainmail behind what Jaune considered the worst blue cloth he had ever seen. And that's saying something, because he thought that blue was the best color in the history of mankind. The others simply wore rags, or this Ulfric wore majestic fur and what seemed like directly skinned fur as a cape. Jaune wondered why earlier he wasn't speaking and finally noticed the gag on him.

"Empire loves their damn lists," blonde said angrily as they were getting off the carts.

They called up the Stormcloaks from the other wagon. "Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm," said the Imperial kindly up ahead.

"It's been an honor serving with you, Ulfric!" blonde said.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

 _So that's his name_ , Jaune thought.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No!" the man cried as he defiantly stepped forward. "This is a mistake! We aren't with them!"

He took off, running the way they came. Instead, "Archers!" the woman called, and a barrage of three arrows lodged into the man's back, making him fall face first into the cold hard ground.

"Anyone else feeling like running?" the woman asked.

"Wait," the Imperial man said after a while. "Step forward."

Jaune did so with a large gulp, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I don't really remember much," Jaune said. "I think I have amnesia, but I remember my name being Jaune..." he trailed off, thinking hard. "A-...Ar-...Arc? Arc," he said. "Jaune Arc."

"Captain," he whispered to the woman. "He's not on the list, what do we do?"

"Damn the list," she said. "He goes to the block."

Jaune felt a pang of hatred and remorse now. And he knew who went into which category by now.

"I'm sorry, kinsman," the Imperial said. "At least you'll be dying in your homeland."

Jaune considered this his homeland from then on, but ignored it for now. Because right now, he was about to get his head chopped off.

Two soldiers were careening supplies that seemed to be their items and he noticed a sword embedded into a shield. Then, he remembered.

That's _his_. And he's not about to let _them_ have it. Jaune was furious. It seemed highly important to him, and they were hauling it around like pork chop.

Ignoring the Captain's harsh words at him, Jaune sped by everyone in the group and tackled the guard, sending the items to the ground.

Jaune felt something. Survival. That... _instinct_...needed at the most perilous times for man. And this was a perilous moment for him. And he knew _exactly_ how he wanted to survive. Or die, perhaps.

If he was going to die, he wasn't going to do it without defiance for something he hadn't done. And that _woman_ is the first one he's running through with his sword.

He quickly unsheathed the sword, to which glinted the sun so much it burnt through a many eyes. He spun about not knowing what was going on. And by sheer luck, one of the soldiers who held out their sword too much, cut right through the bindings. Jaune smiled slyly now as he recovered the shield and aimed it right at the woman.

"This is for your _injustice_!" Jaune yelled as he charged the woman. Just as she recovered her sight, she was run through by Jaune.

"Im-Impossible..." the woman groaned as she fell back.

Jaune wasn't about to let the Stormcloaks' praise get the best of him and he made quick work of some of the other guards. He cut the bindings on the Stormcloaks and turned to the Jarl that was about to be beheaded.

"I'm still on to you about this rebellion business," Jaune informed, not making a move to the bindings as the man steeled into his eyes. Jaune didn't hesitate. "If this is about racism or something, I'll join the Empire to prove that anyone can be here and it could still be anyone's land, or I'll prove you wrong straight up in front of everyone _then_ join your rebellion. As far as I know, I have absolutely no idea what's going on, and that is exactly why I have no care for you or the Empire...yet." Jaune vowed it exactly like he wanted and it had the desired effect. He pulled the man's gag off as he undid the bindings with his sword.

"Thank you for the pep talk, Jaune Arc," he said, remembering his name. Jaune felt a little overpowered by the strength in his words, good or no. "I'll think about it."

Jaune nodded and before they headed into the tower, a black monstrosity fell upon the top of it. Looking and staring down Jaune with its fiery yellow eyes. It breathed in and out a few times. It's inhaling pushed out its black scales, and its exhaling relaxed its dark wings that fluttered a little at seeing Jaune. It's inhales seemed to trail whispy fog into its large nose and exhaled the same fog but with a darker tint. Its tail spun about a little profusely before turning and locking his gaze directly at Jaune. It breathed in heavily once before readying for something.

"Dragon!" an Imperial yelled, aiming his bow from Jaune to the dragon.

 _"Faan. Lok. Mahfil,"_ the dragon bellowed.

The sky turned dark with gray clouds, surrounding the small home of Helgen in its dirty embrace before meteors began to fall. The flaming rocks careened into soldiers left and right, and Jaune couldn't help but stand there in all its horror. He couldn't do a damn thing at the sight of the evil creature. It radiated with a type of Aura he never felt before. And he felt right about then that he was going to do something about this thing, and possibly, kill it.

The thought of it, however, was pierced by a spear of words.

 _"Fus...Ro Dah!"_ the dragon let out, launching he and Ulfric back.

"We need to go!" Jaune yelled, first on his feet - unnaturally (unbeknownst to Jaune) had anyone seen such a feat. He picked up Ulfric and dragged him through the second gate, running for dear life. As they went through the gate, fire was bellowed through the the top of the gate, destroying it completely and sending debris and large cobblestone bricks towards them as they ran down the slope. The rocks and destroyed bits of gate rolled over and over again as they beckoned towards Jaune and Ulfric.

"Inside!" Jaune yelled, shoving Ulfric to the side and into a building with other Stormcloaks. Jaune ran his way down the street further, the debris gaining on him. He needed to get inside the keep whether anyone liked it or not.

He dodged off to the side as the raging debris were sated, finally coming to slow halt. Jaune felt the need to nod at the rand bits of rock and crap he had to dodge and gave in. He looked off to his right and charged toward the new ensuing feud within another.

The Imperial reading them off the list from earlier and Ralof saw each other just up ahead. As Jaune ran down, he felt a connection between the two. Whether he liked it or not, they were related and they hated each other for taking different sides.

"Ralof, you damned traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping Hadvar, and you can't stop us!"

Ralof wielded a lone ax as this Hadvar wielded a fine sword. It angered Jaune to his limit. He guessed the Empire was a little more racist than Ulfric, but he'd soon change that...

Somehow...

The dragon flew right over them, grazing Jaune's back heavily - sending more pain than there should have throughout his body. The dragon's talon ripped through Hadvar like he was nothing, sending the bits of flesh, bone and blood into every direction and serving head from body. However, it completely missed Ralof but a hair's inch.

"Come on, Jaune!" Ralof yelled, puling at Jaune and dragging him to the Keep. "We have to go! The gods'll never give us another chance!"

Jaune tried his best to remain his vision and his steps as he was helped into the building.

Never again will he ever vow to someone he doubt would live.

* * *

Jaune breathed heavily as he was thrown to the other side of the tower by a fatigued Ralof. He missed the dead Stormcloak barely as he landed face first into the wall.

"Gunjar!" Ralof yelled, running over to the dead Stormcloak. "We will meet again in Sovngarde, brother," Ralof said as he looked up to Jaune. "Take his gear, he won't be needing it anymore."

Jaune did as he was told, removing the ragged garment that held over his body before looking at a black piece of clothing closely. It was red within and it reminded him profusely about a specific person he couldn't put his finger on. Someone he may have even liked. Hair, maybe?

He'd remember eventually.

Somehow...

"We need a key to get out of this gate," Ralof said over to Jaune's right. Jaune looked over to his left and saw a gate-door.

"There's a gate over here," Jaune said. "But it looks like it can only be opened from the other side."

Jaune had still been hurting by that claw strike from the dragon earlier. He felt something seep into him. Something he doesn't like. It may even invade that darkness of dreamspace he had liked so very much earlier, and he didn't like that. He may figure it out later, whether he likes it or not. And the pain. Oh, the pain was gone physically...but eh could feel it mentally now...

"You're right," Ralof said as he walked over. As he met up with the gate, he said, "We can cut it down with-"

Shouting was heard from the other side of that hallway.

"Imperials!" Ralof whispered. "Get over here!"

Jaune ducked behind Ralof as the Imperial was telling the other to hurry.

There was a male gray elf person, and a female version of what everyone was calling a Nord. Jaune was _obviously_ not used to any of these words. He'll buy a journal and be on his merry way some time later.

"If we run into any Stormcloaks, they could kill us! I would only ask you listen-"

"Fine!" the other seethed angrily. He sighed heavily. "We'll try to make friends with any Stormcloak we see. It's the only way we'll survive out of here. Maybe we could even join them."

"Hmm," the female hummed before touching the lever. "The only problem I have Ulfric - it's not stopping me, mind you - is that he seems a little-"

"Racist," the one in front of the gate said. "I'm not even a Nord, do you even think he'll let me in."

The gate opened, and an empty handed Ralof walked up. "I'll see to that," he said.

"Huh?" the gray - or whatever color - elf in front of the gate asked. "Really? You mean it?"

"I can help you talk him down," Jaune said. "I already vowed to Ulfric I'd be doing something to hurt his reputation lest he doesn't change his attitude on race."

"Yes," Ralof said a little annoyed. He didn't like working with Imperials, but if they're going to defect, why not?

"Open the other door," Jaune said. "It's the only way out."

"Got it!" the female yelled happily.

Jaune turned to the other and asked for their names. "I'm Doragon Klepto, a Dunmer. Eighteen years of age. The happy little 16 year old girl up there is Kila Nirvana. We met on a job."

"What kind?"

"The killing kind," he said. "We were hired by a lord named Dupan to kill his brothers who were the ones that are supposed to take their parents' inheritance in ten years. That was six years ago, now."

"What happened?" Jaune asked as Kila finally got the door open and their heading down the massive curling stairs.

"Dupan's brothers had no idea he was sending mercenaries out for them, but they had mercenaries of their own. They were Thalmor! We couldn't take them, so Kila and I decided to leave the others behind. They were cutthroats anyway, we didn't care too much for them. Besides, I wouldn't say too little of myself if I'm talking about cutthroats."

"Huh?" Jaune asked. "And...you were twelve on this job?"

"I have ties with the Thieves Guild in Riften. It's why Dupan asked for me specifically."

"And Kila?"

"Her parents were affiliated with the Dark Brotherhood. She...inherited...a few attributes...from them," he paused between moments as he remembered.

"Oh," Jaune said, feigning understanding as he had still no idea what the Oblivion was going on!

"What about you?" the Dunmer said. "How'd you become a Stormcloak?"

Jaune hesitated trying to find some sort of alibi, but Ralof cut him off. Jaune was extremely grateful as it was, need he owe him more?

"He's not official," Ralof said. "I only had him wear that armor to survive down here."

"Hey, look!" Kila said at the bottom of the stairs. "Other Stormcloaks!"

Right as the other three came down to see them far on the other side of the hallway, the ceiling caved in right above them, separating the groups.

"Damn!" Doragon seethed as he kicked some rubble. "That dragon doesn't let up, does he?!"

"Through here!" Jaune bellowed, kicking the door down to the left. The four flowed in as three Imperials were looting the room. "Now, look, we don't want to fi-"

"Die, rebel!" one yelled as he swung the massive war hammer around. Jaune was used to this for some reason and took on the brunt of the attack. Literally. "What the-?!" the man seethed.

Jaune opened his eyes to see a massive white glow, like a whispy white hand, sticking out his left arm, holding back the war hammer. "Something tells me I'm used to this!" he yelled as he unsheathed his sword and ran the Imperial through.

The other two saw the attack as the large Imperial fell to the floor. Jaune's sword, doused in blood, shined eagerly in the pale torchlight in the room. They stared at him wide eyed as he stood up - since he was lightly crouching - and he looked directly at them. "We don't want to fight," he said. "Yield."

"For the Empire!" they yelled and they charged him, no longer afraid. Jaune slammed the back of his left forearm on his sheath and two leather strips extended from the top and wrapped around his forearm, reattaching to underneath his arm. The sheath widened into a shield and he pulled it up to defend himself. As the two left Imperials charged, two yellow arcs were all they saw with a background of steel before two swords and an ax descended onto them, killing them instantly.

"Good job," Ralof said, punching Jaune's shoulder lightly.

"Thanks," Jaune said and told the Imperials help him loot the room. If the Imperials were after something, surely they could use it as well. "What's this?" he asked Kila.

"That's a Stamina potion," she said as he lifted the green bottle up to her. "One swig of that and you'll have a burst of strength and breath."

"Good," Jaune said as he picked up the other two colored bottles.

"Health," she pointed at the red bottle. "And Magicka," she pointed at the blue bottle.

He pocketed the Health potion. "What's Magicka?" he asked.

"Very few ask that question," Doragon interrupted as he hurried past them, beckoning them with. "Magicka, you'll learn about later. Just hurry."

"Ready?" Ralof asked at the door. He stuck it open a little before looking down. "I've been here before," he said a little shakily.

"I really wish we never needed that room," Kila shivered.

"Wait," Jaune said. "What room?"

"The torture room..." Doragon answered slowly with fear.

Jaune shivered the most, least to say.

* * *

"Die, Imperial bastard!" the Stormcloak yelled as he charged the Torturer.

"Die!" the man said as his assistant simply rose a steel shield in the way.

"Damn!" the Stormcloak rebel seethed. "Get them!" he yelled, holding down the shield so the assistant couldn't move.

"Sparks, Fire or Frost, you will die by my hand!" the torturer yelled angrily as he sent a wisp of electricity to his left, killing that rebel, and a flamethrower at the other, killing him as well.

He aimed his hands towards the middle and fired a descent spray of frost at the third, freezing him entirely.

The assistant took back his shield and bashed the icicle, shattering him entirely.

"Damn you!" came a voice from above. Two Imperials stormed in, angry as Oblivion, and charged the torturers.

"Traitors!" the assistant called as two more Stormcloaks burst in.

In a few moments, both were dead, and the four of them scouted the room out.

"Kila," Jaune called, beckoning her into the cage-like room. He tossed her a shield. "Maces aren't that very good alone," he said.

"Whatever," she said, albeit smiling. Doragon made quick work of the middle cage in the room, unlocking it with lock picks.

"I'll need to learn how to do that," Jaune said as Doragon looted the gold and potions. He tossed Jaune two books from the befallen robed man.

"What are these," he said, looking at the unusual symbols.

"Read them," he said. "You're going to have to learn about magic sometime."

"I'll read them later," Jaune said, noticing a book on a lone table. "Hmm," he hummed as he read the cover. "The Return of the Dragonborn," he read aloud. "I'll be taking this as well..." he trailed off as he pocketed the book into the bag he looted earlier. "Damn this thing is spacey!"

"I know, right?!" Kila yelled happily. "Apparently, it has ties to a specific place in Oblivion, devoid of Ideal Masters or your normal Deadric Prince."

"Okay," Jaune said simply, noting to research all of this later if he had to.

"Come on!" Ralof yelled, and the three ran through the doorway.

The four carried on throughout the long hallway, three cages on either side. Jaune hesitated and contemplated whether or not to gain experience by picking the other locks. Doragon put a knowing hand on his shoulder to placate him and beckoned them forward with Ralof and Kila who were undoubtedly already dispatching of some poor Imperials who failed to help them in their quest to escape the town of Helgen before that dragon destroyed it entirely.

Jaune and Doragon descended into the room and were more than pleased to find it rid of the ever-loyal Imperialists.

"Good job," Jaune said in a mocking tone but with a joking edge to it that did not go unheard by Ralof from the irony of those words. He lightly punched the other blonde's shoulder before all four of them came up short to a raised bridge over a tiny chasm.

"I'll get it," Doragon offered as he flipped the massive switch to the other side and the bridge came down. As they spilled into the small amount of man-made cobble area, the area behind them collapsed as the dragon destroyed yet again another piece of fine and expensive property and at the same time decimating the ground behind them as if knowing of the four's location.

"We're not going back out that way," Kila said.

"Obviously," Jaune muttered, though no one heard him.

"The others'll make it out, I'm sure," Ralof assured them. "For now, we must press on."

Jaune noticed the broken gate to their left as they descended into the cave system, noting that may have been going all the way to were the bridge collapsed from earlier. All the same, the river beckoned from it - most likely the town's filth and sewer - came down and sifted loose rocks down to pebble and stone. And they walked upon this smooth path - if it could be called that by the rocks themselves as they all put together like this made them hard pressed not to break a leg from a sheer misstep.

And something bothered him about his leg breaking, and for some reason it was placed in the category of the guy with that war hammer.

He would definitely get to the bottom of this mystery!

...eventually...somehow...

"Damn!" Ralof seethed, punching a large lodged boulder in the way. "There's no going that way."

Kila was already going down the _obvious_ path to the right and Ralof promptly followed, an annoyed Jaune and Doragon following close behind.

"Was it always this way in the Empire?" Jaune asked. "Where someone would _say_ something obvious and someone else would _do_ something obvious?"

"To be honest," Doragon spoke up, the two unheard by the Nords. "I have absolutely no idea what drives the Nords to do such tedious things."

"You know..." Jaune said, trailing off shortly as they turned left. "I keep on telling myself I'd figure something out-"

"And you never can, can you?" Doragon finished for him. "It's always been that way in Skyrim..."

They turned right.

* * *

A scream was heard from beneath the ground.

"Some girly Dunmer is in trouble!" an Imperial yelled, sending another steel arrow in the dragon's direction.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't a female Dunmer...but whatever you say..." his friend deadpanned as he fired another arrow, similar to the other, right at the dragon.

It had the desired effect, but the undesired effect came as the dragon landed and ate the man whole for shooting him _too low_.

* * *

Ralof was done laughing now.

"Are you done?" Doragon seethed as Ralof halted.

"I'm sorry..." he chuckled a little more. "At first, before I even met him..." his eyes landed on Jaune, who quickly reeled back. "...he screamed so loud it dwarfed Vilod's-"

Kila punched Ralof, knowing what he was getting at.

Jaune, stunned, leaned over to Doragon. "How does she-"

"Her friends were known to doing it around her too much," he whispered back, hand over his mouth as to not incur the wrath of his fellow Imperial, who had been sixteen.

"Ah," Jaune sighed as he leaned back into his original position as Ralof and Kila began arguing about how something is noble and whatnot.

Eventually, the two bears-eh, pairs heard a growl in the cave.

"Bear!" Kila whispered, but like a yell, it carried into the bear's chamber, arousing the bear's awakening. "I think this is the part where we either kill it quickly or run like a Khajiit high on Moon Sugar..."

"I vote on running," Jaune quipped quickly.

"Killing," Ralof said bluntly.

"We should kill it," Kila said with a magnificent fist. "For honor. We're no milkdrinkers!"

"I vote on sneaking around it..."

"Well...we're at an impasse, then," Ralof said, after hearing Doragon's admittance to the voting session. "But..." he started. "I think that bear made the decision for us..." he said slowly as the four took glance at the massive bear before them. It stood on its hind legs and barked out at them for his territory.

"Run..." Jaune said simply before the bear roared loudly and charged the fleeing group of four.

"I thought we would never make it!" cheered Doragon as the exited what seemed like a a massive crack that only a human could make through. As they ran through, however, something caught on Kila's foot, causing a chain of events that both helped them by caving in the bear and kind of ruined the idea of _escape_ by trapping Kila beneath rock.

"Ow!" she yelled in pain as the boulder threatened to rip from its wedged place between two well-placed walls and would plunge into her back, killing her instantly.

"Kila!" Doragon yelled in fear as he leapt, but Jaune held him at bay. "What are you doing?!" he screeched angrily.

"I am not only going to learn your weird magic," Jaune said, pulling up a hand to them. "But I need to learn my own as well..."

He called forth that essence that protected him from whatever that dragon Shouted at him.

He felt his blood boil in the sunlight.

He called forth that whispy white tail that protected him from that brute's war hammer.

He felt a type of liquid poor from him.

He felt a foreign power and beckoned on it, as it showed of crimson and glowed black, obscuring his white whispy trail.

The iron rock began to lift from the two walls it had been wedged into.

And Doragon and Ralof proceeded to pull the girl out, barely catching Jaune as he slumped back. As Jaune went cold, however, the dragon that attacked Helgen flew over with a knowing roar at approval of Jaune's tenacity to get the girl out...

He needed to work on that.

No, really. He really did.

 **-= *End of Chapter 2* =-**

It's a little too late for comfort, I'm sorry. I've doused myself way too far into Skyrim as it is, constantly restarting it because I think I messed up something too much in the main quest line and proceeded to restart over and over again as it is summer.

Any suggestions, critiques or praises? Because I don't like backtalk! However, if you want to point out a few references, that's fine. I'll just post your name in the beginning of the next chapter I write! Happy searching!

 **Pronunciations:** Now, some people may not got some of the pronunciations wrong. This is to fix that.

Doragon: dohr-ah-gan

Klepto: klehp-toh

Kila: kee-lah

Nirvana: nurh-vah-nah

 _Point out any that I missed!_

Now, for the love of God, let the next Fanfiction begin!


	3. Defenseless Odds

_**Season 1: Dragonborn | Arc 1: Thrown into Chaos**_

Hey guys! I just started writing this a few hours after I actually finished the last chapter, so if it comes late, blame my lack of sleep in this Summer.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own RWBY, that belongs to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth, extensively. I do not own The Elder Scrolls Five: Skyrim, that belongs to Bethesda and any other company affiliated in the making. I do, however, own any and all OCs as well as twisted plot/Canon.

 **A/N:** Thanks to Kyranol1, I am now interested with a new game, and depending how much I will like it, I will be adding Easter Eggs and different references from said game. And for ww1990ww for mentioning armor mods. I will think about this as Steam alone (I don't have Nexus) will not have very creative armor mods. Any suggestions will be helpful on this. Oh, and as someone else loved to say (I do not remember who they were, so I'm just **disclaiming** this...): _**"These chapters will be updating slower than an over-encumbered Dragonborn."**_ Thanks to you. One more thing, I swear it: Last chapter, I spoke of Ralof and Vilod...I want to point out that at that time, I hadn't known that Vilod was a guy. In this Fanfiction, he is female. Deal with it, I'm too lazy to make the changes that would take too long. Happy reading and writing!

Owna, orfa heta ovela ofa Odga, etla hista Anfictionfa eginba! (translate it _with_ the language, and I will give you a kudo :D)

 **-= *Defenseless Odds* =-**

It was quiet. Almost too quiet. Then, Jaune remembered. He was in this little dreamspace of darkness someplace deep within the recesses of his own mind, someplace he couldn't contemplate well from the lack of memory. Then, a voice. Faint. Female. Heck, that was all he could tell.

Then the hair was all he could make out, white outlining the rest. What wasn't outlined, however, was her face. He would mention beauty had her face actually have anything on it. He was hoping he'd remember sometime. But...that invasion of feeling when he was graced on the back by that black dragon's talon...he couldn't tell...return of the memory, or the invasion of some kind of foreign object trying to reign supreme within him.

He couldn't tell. He would find out. But as he declared this, he lost focus on the girl and he went through memory, but not without strange ethereal words.

 _"Gold and Gleam, Light with Power..."_

Jaune saw white outlines of two females, including their faces, that is. But only their hair showed color.

One with a golden mane of hair stretching back, not even bothering the comb it all that well. But it fit perfectly, whether or not color filled the other spaces.

The other with short orange hair, lightly curling at the end right above the shoulders.

Orange Hair seemed more familiar than Golden Hair, but that might be revealed later on.

The two disappeared and the same voice returned, more silky, perhaps?

 _"Crimson Red, Small and Tower."_

The same one from before that was calling out to him, same without face, but the color in her hair the same. The other, however, was a little different.

The shorter of the two was a brunette, short still. Little highlights of red dotted and streamlined across her hair in short swirls in some areas. They didn't seem to go past shoulder, but unlike Orange Hair, they didn't seem to curl.

The taller than the two, the one he recognized the most as it was, still was devoid of face but the red crimson hair was still there, in a pony tail and flowing way past her hips, something he took in profusely. But, if you asked him that, he would completely deny having done so.

The two disappeared, and the voice came in once more.

 _"Black and Green, Bright in Book."_

Two more outlines, one perhaps too bright and the other too dark.

The first was male, almost his height. He had his own pony tail, and perhaps an unusual magenta streak in the unbound hair.

The second was female, a little shorter than he, but he couldn't tell the hair quite well. Too black and dark for him, if not brunette. She held a book in one hand, and he was just about darker on his face than the red text on it that read _Ninjas of Love._ Something told him that was a little too much for his tastes.

And for the last time - he hoped - the two disappeared with two more and the voice came by, almost whispering in his ear.

 _"And Ivory, Allure over Glower."_

One outline appeared and he recognized a small bit about her. The entire outline was white, but so was her hair. The off-set pony tail really set him off and then the memories that were repressed came.

* * *

"Ugh!" she groaned after his stupid attempt of flirting with her (that I will not iterate; you're free to make one up in your mind). "Why must you always flirt with me so?"

 **He facepalmed where he stood, sighing deeply at his own attempt.**

"Uh...sorry, Wei-" he tried, only to be cut off once more.

"Pyrrha is _obsessed_ with you."

"Huh?" he asked. **He stuck the name deep within his mind, searching for what it fit so well with.**

"Ugh, look," she said, exasperated and highly annoyed. "Tell me why you flirt with me so much!"

"Well...you seem like the only one who needs it..." Jaune tried.

"Enlighten me," she said sarcastically, but her words were taken seriously, something she actually wanted but was still angry at the fact as his blundering about with her.

"Well, first there's Ruby: she's cute, knows it...and _uses_ it," he started, looking up to help jog his memory. "Then there's Blake: beauty is in her _name_. And Yang...well...I don't think I need to iterate that..."

She looked off to the side a little embarrassed and not without blush. "Yeah...don't need to say that..." she said awkwardly.

"Yeah..." he said instantly, looking for the last few for thought. "Nora is way too bubbly, and I don't think she needs help. And Pyrrha...she's too good for me both in power and looks..."

She then crossed her arms and leaned into a hip, waiting for his idea about her.

"And then...there's you..." he said slowly. She looked at him with a raised brow and an even heavier glower. "You try to make everything about you perfect. You eat perfect, walk perfect...heck even talk perfect! The point is, I'm just saying that when it comes to looks...you don't need to have any work done..." Throughout his opinion of her, he rose in voice and confidence, only slowing down and lowering his voice as he reached the end and finally trailed off.

Jaune closed his eyes and rose his arms to defend himself from the blow.

She covered her dark pink face in her hands waiting for the tease.

Both opened their eyes slowly until they saw the other trying to protect each other respectively. Crystal blue looked into ocean blue, and then...they knew-

"Jaune!" Pyrrha yelled as she rushed over.

"P-Pyrrha?!" he stuttered out, reeling back a little.

"There you are!" she yelled. "I still want my pay from Ozpin on that job we took. That was too much work, even for me..." she looked down a little before looking back to him. "And Ren thinks the same. He actually had to get up _early_...and recently I've felt the same about early..." He remembered in his mind that Pyrrha had recently been getting up later after that one, single job they took that stole every ounce of stamina out of them.

 **He couldn't figure out her name. He only remembered himself - obviously - and that girl in White - Weiss. But this girl in bronze armor with the addition of that circlet...he just couldn't figure it out.**

"Right!" he yelled. "I'll get that pay, then!" He turned heel and ran off towards Ozpin's office, in that high tower of his.

"You do like him," Pyrrha said with a smile at Weiss.

"Perhaps..." Weiss smiled. **It seemed like she'd never smiled before, and he took every ounce that he could savor of it.** "But, I'm still not happy about it."

Pyrrha simply rose a hand, and the beckoned money fell into her hand. She counted it. "Ten, twenty...thirty Lien. Now..." she handed it back, surprising Weiss. "He's _mine_. Stay away from him."

"Right," she said. "Gladly. I hope it's just a crush that will blow away in the wind sometime...and hopefully it's vice versa..."

"Better be," she looked off in his direction, burning her eyes into his back. "Or I'll never let him hear the end of it."

From that day on, Weiss avoided Jaune - and _especially_ Pyrrha - for the rest of the year.

* * *

Jaune awoke from his unconsciousness in a cold sweat. That amount of information had been too much for him. But for the love of his life, he could not remember any of what he acquired from his repressed memory. _Maybe I just have to will it later on,_ he hypothesized. _Or it'll just come later..._

"Jaune!" was the last thing he heard before he was tackled into his bed by a _boisterous_ girl that landed on him. She hugged him tightly.

"Nora..." he breathed out. "Can't...breathe..."

"Nora?" she pulled back at him, and the silver-eyed girl stared back at him.

He didn't see the hair. "Ruby?"

"Ruby?" she asked again. "It's Kila! The Imperial girl you didn't want to kill back at Helgen!" She grabbed a lock of hair from him and began rubbing her knuckles against his head.

"Gah-!"

"Hehe!" she giggled as he flailed around, trying to regain his dignity from the small sixteen year old.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled as Doragon removed she from he.

Doragon said, "Now that everything has been sorted, how are you feeling?"

"Good," Jaune said quickly. "I just got some memories back when I was unconscious, but I can't remember it back now."

"Hmm..." Doragon mused as he sat down on a cot. He was in some sort of L-shaped house now. He was on the bed at the moment, Ralof was on the right end of the house, a man and woman - he presumed were married - were on the other side preparing food. The second cot on the floor is where Kila probably came from. "Is that why you called Kila those two unusual names?"

"Ruby and Nora?" he asked. He looked up at the straw-like ceiling to jog his memory. "Perhaps she resembles them in ways, but I can't remember exactly. Her jumping into me reminded me of a Nora, and her eyes-" he looked directly at her eyes, "-reminded me of a Ruby. But rubies are red. I don't know what silver had to do with it..."

"Perhaps her eyes were silver," Doragon suggested.

"And maybe Nora is as fun as I!" Kila tried.

"True..." Jaune said, thinking hard with eyes shut.

"What's going on?" Ralof broke his line of thought.

"He said while he was unconscious he remembered a few things, but he can't muster up the memories when conscious," Doragon said.

"And he called me two different random names from two different people!" Kila yelled.

"It was an accident," Doragon fixed for her.

For some reason, this sort of situation was oddly familiar to him. Two childhood friends, one trying to correct the other's useless banter. And a third who was a renowned fighter with good build.

Not that he was looking or anything...

And there was him. He could give good commands, figure things out - when the right thing calls for it - and...well...of course there were a few aspects _out_ of place. Certainly _liking_ someone, but he wasn't about to go that far.

"This situation is also reminded me of people I remember..." he uttered out, but the three stopped talking to hear him.

"What kind of things?" Doragon asked.

"Well..." he pointed at Doragon and Kila. "You two remind me of childhood friends. One would correct the other's stories..."

"Sounds like us!" Kila said.

"You remind me of a pretty good fighter...just that..."

"What?" Ralof asked.

"That was a girl..."

The woman on the other side dropped a spoon and it clattered across the floor.

The room was silent as they all looked to him.

"N-nothings perfect!" Ralof yelled, only having Doragon sputtering out insults that made him laugh louder.

Kila had no idea what was going on, but her giggling caused the man and woman on the left side to start laughing as well.

Jaune chuckled a little. "The good thing is, is that Ralof is really good at fighting."

"And what's the funny part?" he seethed.

"The good fighter you remind me of was a girl. _Very_ good..."

Ralof's eyes went big at that. "By Shor's balls, don't tell me-"

"NO!" Jaune yelled. "If anything,I'm completely straight!"

Doragon, Kila and the man and woman were too busy laughing to know just exactly what was just said.

"Good," Ralof said quickly. "Let's have a sit down so I can actually introduce you to my sister and her husband."

"Ah," Jaune said. "I was worried."

* * *

Silence.

The meal was eaten silently, though Kila's antics went as far as eating - and hopefully nothing else.

Jaune sat in the middle of one side of the table, Doragon on his left, Ralof on his right. Kila sat across from them, thinking it was some sort of feign of superiority. Hod sat on one end of the table to the right, and Gerdur, the other.

"Done!" she piped up, causing a sputter of laughter from Jaune as he finished the last of pheasant breast from the table.

"I'm sorry," Jaune said.

"No problem," Hod and Gerdur said at the same time. They smiled to each other. "What's your name lad?" Hod asked finally.

"Jaune Arc," he said as if he'd been saying it for a while. A memory resurfaced, and this did not go over their heads. "Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it."

Kila and Gerdur simply giggled at that. "I'm sure they do," Gerdur said. "It does have a nice ring to it. What about...Captain Arc?" she looked at Hod.

Jaune blushed as Hod went, "Ah, now that sounds nice."

"I'm not thinking about joining the war..." Jaune said.

"Why not?" Ralof asked as he bit into his meal, showing no malice. And it was no feign, it was honest. He certainly wasn't about to judge people, he was nice like that.

"I've seen the true faces of both sides," Jaune said. "If I'm saying anything, if my past is saying anything, I simply have no information about either side whatsoever."

"What will you do?" Hod asked.

"I'm not sure..." Jaune said. "I'm a killer at heart, but I have no idea what. Maybe a huntsman'll do, but I'm still not sure."

"Huntsman?" Ralof asked.

"Huh?" Jaune went. "Oh, another memory, perhaps. Hunter, whatever."

"There are the Companions, and you have fighting instinct. Fighting with them usually consists of being a hunter for gold," Hod informed.

"Sellswords, then?" Jaune asked. A nod from Gerdur was the reaction.

"What will get you to join the war?" Doragon asked. All eyes fell on Jaune.

"Maybe if I saw their artifice..." they looked at him warily from the word. "Fake face, whatever you call it. Maybe, just maybe, I'll pick a side."

"We're pro-Stormcloak," Hod said. "You won't be getting anything from us."

"Opinions may help," Jaune said. He immediately regretted it.

* * *

"And _that's_ why you should join the Empire," Kila finished. Doragon facepalmed.

"When she was talking about the Ninth Divine having something to do with the Empire, she was talking about Talos. Tiber Septim. He was once man, transcended into godhood," he started, before completely setting up many lines and different sentences on how he fixed every last detail Kila said. He surprisingly listened to every last thing.

* * *

"And _that's_ why you should join the Stormcloaks," Ralof finished. Jaune put his face in his hands.

"Opinions are too much..." he whimpered out.

Doragon put a hand on his back, completely agreeing with him.

* * *

He, Doragon, Hod and Gerdur watched the two Nords deck it out against the other over which side was right. At every turn, Kila would compliment Ulfric to tell him she still wanted to join but still was pro-Empire in a few ways.

"Talos _created_ the Empire!" Kila yelled. "The one you _worship_!"

"The Empire has changed since then!" Ralof spat back. "The Thalmor control them! They're using them, you! Can't you see it?!"

"I still want to join Ulfric, I just don't agree with this train of thought of how every last non-Nord is to be kicked out of Skyrim!"

"Enough!" Jaune yelled, standing and slamming the tabletop. He uttered an apology to the owners before steeling his eyes into Ralof, then Kila. "I agree and disagree with the _both_ of you..." he said slowly. "I agree with the fact that the Empire is being used, and I agree that Ulfric is racist. But if we're going to fight each other by words over table, then what good are we to either side? You both agreed with yourselves but failed to see it and continued fighting like some old married couple." Ralof and Kila blushed a little at that, but it went unnoticed by the angry blonde. "We're going to Ulfric, and if he fails to get the right sense of mind, I'm marching to Solitude." He got wisps of information from Kila during her rant on how the Empire should be chosen.

"Got it..." the two muttered.

"Good," Jaune said. "Let's finish here. Now, is there anything you would have me do, Ma'am?" he asked Gerdur.

"You can call me Gerdur," she said. "I'll provide you with items - since any friend of Ralof is a friend of mine - and I would ask that you would do something for us."

"Anything," Jaune said with a smile as Ralof begrudgingly ate his food and Kila didn't smile (which was rare to Doragon, as he had never gotten that effect from her).

"We need you to head to Whiterun and tell the Jarl, Balgruuf the Greater, about the dragons and that we need more guards. We have no walls, so we're at odds here."

"I'll do it," Jaune said. "What about you guys?" he asked the other three.

"I'll go with you!" Kila said, regaining her mood.

"I'll go as well," Doragon said quickly, as he vowed never to leave her (more for her actions than her looks).

"I'll stay here and rest up," Ralof said. "Even the greatest of hunters need their rest," he looked at Jaune with a tint of anger. It reminded him of the girl, as he had regained the memory from the dream he encountered of himself, that Weiss girl, and the crimson haired one. Jaune smiled before walking away and found himself out of the house in the nice little hamlet.

Yeah, he should hurry to Whiterun, wherever it is.

* * *

"Where is Whiterun?" asked Jaune.

Doragon sighed. "We've been on the road for five minutes, and _now_ you ask?"

"I thought we were following you," Jaune sweat dropped.

"Yeah," Kila dropped in.

"It's actually just up the road," said Doragon. They walked up a few paces and he stood up in front of him and turned, facing them. "If you'll look there," he pointed behind him. "That's Whiterun."

Across the large grassy plane, there was a short, but strong wall that surrounded a city. Farms of plant and livestock with their utter houses surrounded the city so. The stables, a few camps of refuge around the strong fort of a city. Three layers, like a wedding cake, sat the town. The first layer held the most houses that gleamed the most despite their low money. The middle district held that of slightly large houses, a beautiful - dead - tree somewhere Jaune couldn't see too well, some smoke from what he guessed was from a good forge and other such things. At the top, like the tip of an arrow, the blade of a halberd, or even the end of the edge of a spear sat what was obviously where the Jarl would sit in. Dragonsreach, as the people of Riverwood put it. Dragonsreach was his destination, and oh, how he was glad it wasn't a dungeon he had to fight through, as to him, three layered dungeons were quite cliche.

"Cool," Jaune said simply and walked further down the path, leaving Doragon and Kila confused.

"I just showed you the most beautiful city in all of Skyrim, and all you say is 'cool?'"

"Something tells me..." Jaune said slowly as he whipped around, looking back at them. "I've seen a lot better, even if it's a lot smaller..."

Doragon facepalmed and Kila giggled at their antics before taking lead to the beautiful city of Whiterun.

Something told Jaune that he wasn't the only one contemplating sides in this...Civil War...

 **-= *End of Chapter 3* =-**

A bit shorter, but at least I had written something down.

Next chapter, you get some _real_ fighting (not like that short descriptions in Helgen! No, real!).

 **A/N:** Now, before any of you go crazy: _**NO, I AM NOT SHIPPING JAUNE AND RALOF! THAT WAS A STUPID THOUGHT, AND IT TOOK ME A REALLY LONG TIME TO REALIZE THAT IN A WAY, DORAGON AND KILA REMINDED ME OF REN AND NORA, RESPECTIVELY.**_ Now that my raving is over, we can continue on.

Now, for the love of God, let the next Fanfiction begin!


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